Mission Day 11: Disaster
“Pass me the rope!” Edward roared, his voice barely audible over the storm.
Callan did as he asked, then clutched the railing as an even larger wave struck the Horizon. The two of them had gone out during a lull in the storm to repair some of the destroyed rigging, but they hadn’t expected the waves to intensify so quickly. Callan had been trained for this, but her primary role was to be one of the geologists, and she was never supposed to serve in such severe circumstances. Callan would never have needed to risk herself if they had not encountered a storm, or if the sailors had not fallen ill, but there was no time to think about that now, not when she had a job to do.
“Done!” Edward hollered. The storm had destroyed some of the rigging, but his repairs would help ensure that no further damage would occur. “Get back inside, we need to-!”
The bow of the ship suddenly plummeted, and they both looked up to see a wave towering over the ship.
“Hold on!” Edward yelled, and the two of them huddled down to brace for impact.
The wave came crashing down onto the deck, but only barely managed to reach their higher position. Even so, the small amount of water that struck their legs threatened to tear them off the ship.
“Are you okay?” Callan yelled as the wave subsided, and was horrified to see an ugly red mark on the side of the sailor’s head.
Edward had a dazed, unfocused look in his eyes, but still he beckoned for her to follow as he rose, and stumbled to get back inside the ship.
They’d almost reached safety when their world tilted once again, even more this time, and a monstrous wall of water rose up from the ocean, threatening to swallow the ship whole.
“Go! Go! Go!” Edward yelled, though his encouragement was far from needed.
Callan barely managed to make it inside the ship before the wave struck, and only then did she realize she’d outpaced Edward in the chaos. Turning around, she was horrified to see her crewmate sprawled upon the deck, with only one hand clutching a railing.
She was out beside him before she could even think, and swiftly looped his arm around her shoulder to drag the half-conscious man to safety.
They were steps away from the hatch when the next wave struck, tearing them off the deck with such force that their hands may as well not have been on the railing at all.
The next thing Callan knew she was deep beneath the waves, struggling to orient herself. The geologist fought and kicked towards the surface, but she only managed a singular breath before the tumultuous waves knocked her beneath the ocean again.
In most respects, Callan was quite a good swimmer, but her drenched clothing weighed heavily on her limbs, and the crashing waves stole her every breath. Not even the greatest swimmer alive could remain afloat for long in such a situation, and soon she sank beneath the waves for the last time.
The turbulent ocean surface was almost tranquil from beneath the waves; it may have been relaxing if Callan weren’t dying of asphyxiation. She knew death would come the moment she opened her mouth, but all the will in the world couldn't stop her body's need to expel carbon dioxide in her lungs.
Just before her resolve failed, something enveloped her entire body.
Suddenly Callan was flipped end over end, forcing her to snort out what air she had to keep saltwater from flowing up her nostrils.
At the same time Callan weakly flailed her limbs, inadvertently kicking something soft and pushing her out of the water. She gasped – the muggy, salty air smelled faintly of decaying fish, but to her it was more refreshing than any summer breeze.
Callan scrambled to keep herself aloft, and greedily heaved for more air as she took in her surroundings. She stumbled as the waist-high water sloshed to and fro, and abruptly she realized that she could see.
Speckles of dim, blue-white lights covered the soft spongy ‘floor’. As Callan’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized she was leaning against a wall of bristles.
A whale.
She was inside the mouth of a whale.
The sound of coughing snapped her out of her bewilderment, and she rushed over to help up a waterlogged Edward.
“Are you alright?” she asked, sitting him up against a wall.
“F-fine,” Edward sputtered. “Where…where are we?”
“Inside of a whale, I think…” Callan said slowly.
“Watch out-!” Edward coughed as a dark shape moved through the chest-high water, swimming up to the two humans…only to bump them in the chest.
Callan gawked at the creature, realizing that-
“It’s a baby,” Edward breathed.
The infant eyed them as it emitted a noise, something which Callan could only describe as a clicking whistle. The movement of what Callan assumed to be the parent caused the water within its mouth to slosh from end to end, pushing the humans around, though the infant seemed adept in moving about despite the pendulous waves.
“Well…it seems friendly,” Callan said, glancing back at Edward in concern. The bruise on his head had swollen even further, and the man looked positively nauseous. “Are you alright?” she asked.
“I’ll manage,” Edward said, his voice uneven despite his visible efforts to remain stoic. “Is there anything we can do?”
“There’s no way for us to get back onto the ship, even if we could get her to open her mouth,” Callan grunted as she made an effort to right herself.
“Then I guess we’re stuck here,” Edward muttered as the infant whale chirped happily at them.
“Hold on, there’s some higher…‘ground’ over there,” Callan said, taking a good look at her surroundings. The back of the whale’s mouth had notably shallower water. “We need to get out of this water, else we’ll freeze to death.”
“Good call,” Edward said, and the two of them trudged their way up to the higher elevation. They weren’t able to completely get out of the water, but it was enough.
“What do you think is going to happen to us?” Edward wheezed, sitting himself up against the wall of the whale’s mouth.
“I don’t think she’s going to eat us,” Callan said uncertainly. “Look at the baby. I think her species protects their infants by keeping them in their mouths.”
“Her?” Edward asked questioningly.
“...just a guess. I suppose it could be the father,” Callan shrugged.
“Well, why would it protect us? We’re not its babies.”
Callan shrugged tiredly. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Mission Day 12: Journey
Slosh…slosh…slosh…
There was nothing to mark the passage of time, save for the periodic shifting of the water in the whale’s mouth. On occasion the whale would emit a deep, haunting cry that Callan felt as much as she heard.
They did not run out of air, as Callan had silently feared, which made sense when she thought about it. After all, the infant would not survive if the air were not cycled.
Slosh…slosh…slosh…
That did not mean they were entirely safe; the water lapped at their legs, sapping away their body heat. The ocean was fortunately quite warm, but it was still cooler than human body temperature, and the two of them grew colder with each passing hour.
Slosh…slosh…slosh…
The infant seemed rather confused by their presence; it often swam up to the humans, clicking in what felt like a curious manner. The calf was far larger than either of them, measuring around three or four meters long, and did not seem bothered by the confined space.
Slosh…slosh…slosh…
Edward’s condition had deteriorated as the hours passed, with the man eventually vomiting within their enclosed space. Yet more time slipped by, and their eyes grew heavy-lidded despite their constant efforts to stay above the water.
Mission Day 13: Landfall
Slosh……slosh……slosh……
“Edward?”
“Hm?” Edward murmured, feverishly opening his eyes.
“I think the whale’s moving differently,” Callan said hesitantly. She felt that the movement of the water around them had slowed, though it was hard to tell for certain.
“I don’t see any difference,” Edward mumbled, his eyes hazy and unfocused.
Callan was about to respond, but was interrupted by the whale’s penetrating cry – one that was far louder than any they had heard before.
“Something’s happening,” Callan warned, just before the whale’s mouth began to tilt backwards. The enormous creature’s mouth began to open, allowing blinding sunlight to stream into its jaws.
“Where are we?” Edward asked, shielding his eyes.
Callan frowned. “Hold on, I-”
The words in her throat died as the whale’s lower jaw dipped into the ocean, causing a fresh flood of saltwater to knock them off their feet.
The two humans tumbled through the water, and Callan began to panic before she realized that the ocean floor was only several meters away. She managed to orient herself within a few seconds, and kicked towards the surface. The geologist gasped for breath the moment she breached the surface, and to her relief Edward followed suit a few moments afterwards.
Whipping her head around, Callan was relieved to see an island a short distance away. “Over there!” she called to Edward, who visibly struggled to stay afloat. “Relax, hold a deep breath, focus on floating,” she said, grabbing him from behind so that she could drag him backwards towards the shore. The process gave her a good look at their cetacean savior, who was a rather unremarkable dark blue save for the lighter streaks of scars across her body, with a distinct cross-shaped scar over the left eye.
Callan was an excellent swimmer, but she was sleep-deprived, hungry, and completely exhausted. They were close, so close, with nothing but a few dozen meters of tranquil waters between them and survival – but that distance may as well have been an ocean for her battered body. Edward tried to assist her by feebly kicking his legs, but his efforts had no discernable effect on their progress. If she were alone, she might have a chance, but she certainly wasn’t going to leave him to die so close to safety.
Suddenly Callan felt a jolt, and the two of them began drifting towards the shore at a rapid pace, and she realized that the calf was pushing them along towards the beach.
The relief she felt when her feet dug into the seabed was immense, and it gave her just enough energy to drag Edward onto the beach, with her nearly collapsing on top of him. She did nothing but breathe for a minute, but then the calf’s clicks and whistles drew her attention. Her limbs felt like lead, but she forced herself up to see it swimming back towards its mother, jumping into the air as if to say farewell. She weakly waved goodbye, though she wasn’t sure if either of them could see it.
The geologist watched as the mother ponderously turned around, and dove back into the water with a kick of her enormous tail. In the distance she saw more whales; other members of the pod who shot spouts of water into the air as they surfaced.
“Are you alright?” Callan asked Edward as the whales receded into the distance.
“Fine,” Edward wetly coughed, which had the opposite effect of reassurance. The noise sounded serious, and infection was highly probable given that some seawater had surely entered his lungs. “I don’t suppose you see the ship anywhere?” he wheezed as he crawled away from the lapping waves.
“Unfortunately not,” Callan said as she glanced around at their surroundings. “We should…find shelter.”
“We should,” Edward agreed, closing his eyes.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep yet,” Callan said, but stumbled as the full force of her exhaustion struck her like a physical wave. Her body was shutting down, now that there was no crisis to keep her awake, and she fell to her knees. “Okay, we’ll rest for a minute, then we’ll…go do…stuff…” she mumbled, and passed out on the warm sunlit beach.
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The first thought that came to Callan’s mind was that her throat was dry. So dry that she couldn't even form words. The second thing was that she was hungry, ravenously hungry.
She pushed herself up to see the sun setting. She hasn't slept for as long as she'd expected, unless she had slept for something approaching 30 hours, which…seemed unlikely, seeing as her limbs still felt like lead.
Callan glanced down at Edward, who snored in a wheezing, sickly way. Deciding to let him rest, she staggered away in search of fresh water. As she walked, she noticed that the island was home to many crabs, which she ignored with great difficulty – she wasn’t going to eat a raw crab; not without at least trying to start a fire.
She didn’t have to get very far to find a few old coconuts on the beach, which surprised her. The geologist supposed this proved that they could float across oceans after all, and picked up a few of them to bring back.
Getting into the coconuts proved to be difficult, however. She could crack them open easily enough, but that wasted much of the juice inside. Callan eventually settled on using a pointy rock as a makeshift drill, which was time-consuming, but far less wasteful.
“Edward, can you get up?” Callan said, gently shaking her crewmate, who coughed as he awoke.
“Where…?” Edward asked before breaking into a coughing fit. He pulled his hand away, revealing a glob of bloody phlegm. “Oh. That’s not good,” he wheezed, wobbling as he pushed himself up. “Give me one of those coconuts, would you?”
Callan did as he asked, her lips pursed into a thin line. Blood in his phlegm was a bad sign, and without medical treatment…well, maybe she’d just have to hope that he’d get better.
Mission Day 14: Survival
Callan awoke early in the morning to survey their new place of residence, a task which only took a few hours. The island was small, elliptic, and around two or three kilometers across at the widest.
The flora that inhabited the island were all thin and tough, as if they only barely managed to survive. Even the trees were too sparse to be really called a forest. The wildlife was likewise limited, consisting mostly of small birds, rodents, and crabs, with only the latter being a worthwhile source of food. She’d been ecstatic to find a few small ponds of water that had gathered in impermeable rock, but a closer inspection revealed them to be concentrated salt water. Fortunately other such ponds deeper into the heart of the island contained fresh water, which ensured their short-term survival for now.
Yesterday Callan had made a bow-drill out of a stick and strands of her long hair, but her attempts to start a fire were met with frustrating failure. She’d used this very method to start a fire from scratch during training, but it seemed everything on the island was perpetually damp, and the two of them had gone to sleep that night in a shallow cave after voraciously tearing into a few raw crabs.
Edward seemed to rest more easily after their meal, but in retrospect Callan was a little disturbed by how delicious the crabs were. Still, she was intent on getting a fire started as soon as possible. Preferably today.
Mission Day 19: Survival
“Damnit,” Callan swore as the pile of grass simply refused to combust.
The geologist had been trying to start a fire for several days now, but all her attempts had resulted in nothing but failure. She’d made some progress by experimenting with different types of grass in different ratios, some of which smoked more than others, but none of them ever produced a flame.
The sun was about to set, so Callan was forced to give up for now. Turning around, she didn’t see Edward anywhere. The sailor must have disappeared while she worked to start a fire, which was unusual given his worsening condition.
It didn’t take long for her to find him, collapsed a short distance away.
“Edward!” Callan exclaimed, running over to help her crewmate. She helped turn him over, and breathed a sigh of relief when he groaned. “What happened?” she asked, checking him for injury.
“Went to the bathroom,” Edward muttered, looking away shamefully. “Next thing I know I’m waking up on the ground. Must’ve…tripped or-” he was interrupted by another bout of coughing, splattering his hand red with blood. “...I’m going to die, aren’t I?” he asked, meeting Callan’s eyes for the first time in days.
“The ship has antibiotics,” Callan said reassuringly. “If we can just-”
“Save it,” Edward sighed. “My lungs haven’t been feeling right ever since we fell into the ocean, and the ship’s long gone,” he wheezed before hacking up more blood.
Callan pursed her lips, unable to offer any consolation. He was right, and they both knew it.
“Sure sucks to die after surviving all that, but that’s life, I guess,” Edward wheezed. “If you make it, tell my brother…” he fell silent, and stared off into the sunset for several long seconds. “Damnit, I don’t know. Tell him…I’m sorry, I guess. For everything. And tell him to take care of himself. He’ll understand, I hope.”
“...I will,” Callan said, speaking past the lump in her throat.
“...you got stuff to say…to your man too, don’t you?” the sailor asked, between wheezing coughs.
Callan bit her lip, glancing down at the ground.
“Then I guess you’ll have to…survive for the both of us,” Edward chuckled tiredly.
“...I’ll try,” Callan promised.
“Good,” Edward tiredly nodded, and allowed Callan to help him up.
Mission Day 21: Alone
“Good morning,” Callan yawned, stretching as she awoke. “...Ed?” She asked. Extending a hand, she gently shook the sailor, only to find his body stiff and unmoving.
Callan pursed her lips, and bowed her head. A quick check showed that he had no pulse, confirming what she’d already known.
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Callan grunted as she ploughed a jagged rock into the beach, using it as a makeshift spade.
Edward’s sickness had worsened gradually, and as such his passing didn’t come as a surprise. The two of them weren’t very close either, but they’d still experienced this hardship together.
Now, she was left to endure it alone.
A sting of pain halted Callan’s task – she’d nicked her finger on a sharp rock hidden within the sand, and a trickle of blood oozed from the small cut.
She ignored it, clenched her fist, and brought the spade down.
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Callan stepped back to look over the grave, her hands rubbed raw from the effort.
It was shallow, and inadequate, but it was the best that she could do.
The geologist opened her mouth, but words failed to come. What could she say?
Instead she clenched her fist, and focused on what she needed to do to survive.
Mission day 25: Wayfinding
Callan looked up into the night sky, searching for a certain star.
Her coordinates were impossible to determine with the tools she could make, and at first she had assumed that knowing her exact location would have no use besides telling her how screwed she was; after all, it wasn’t as if she had any way of traversing the ocean.
But she’d given it more thought, and the geologist realized that if she knew her latitude then she could know where to look for the Horizon, as the ship was expected to be on course to the eastern coast of the smaller continent at a latitude of 22.5 degrees north.
Of course, a ship couldn’t travel on a perfectly straight path, especially with that hurricane blowing her off course, but it was better than looking in random directions.
It took several days (and many coconuts) of trial and error, but she’d finally made a sextant that could provide some degree of accuracy.
First she’d used the bow-drill to drill a hole straight through the coconut, then she made and broke several flint tools trying to cut it in half. In the end she’d ruined the coconut, so she had to drill a new one.
Callan had considered cutting her hair short before setting sail, and now she was very glad that she’d decided to bundle it all up with a hair tie instead – her long hair was an extremely valuable source of string, and she tied a strand to the center of the straightest stick she could find. Then she just had to tie the other end of the string to a pebble, insert the stick through one half of the coconut, and she had a sextant.
The degree markings she’d nicked into the shell should be fairly accurate as well, as it was child’s play to divide a shell into quarters or eighths using strands of hair.
Callan aimed her sextant at the north star, noting that it did not seem much higher or lower than usual, and read her latitude.
Thirty-two degrees north.
Callan pursed her lips, and let out a long, drawn-out sigh. Some mental math told her that 9.5 degrees of latitude was about a thousand kilometers of distance.
The geologist checked her sextant regardless of prior tests proving the accuracy of the device. She ran through the math again, despite knowing that no error of arithmetic could account for a thousand kilometer difference.
After a minute she set the sextant down and tightly wrapped her arms around her knees. The Horizon would never come anywhere near this godforsaken island.
She never had any hope of rescue.
Mission Day 86: Second Contact
Callan stalked her prey, her steps swift and silent with practice.
In the days after Edward’s death, she’d found traces of odd, six-legged rodent-like creatures. These proved to be elusive, and she’d largely ignored them until she realized the crab population was markedly thinner than before. It was then that she’d decided to hunt these creatures, who she’d nicknamed prowlers. They were fairly large, easily outweighing her, and they seemed intelligent, or at least cautious of her presence. The prowlers were rarely seen in the daytime, and it had taken a few days for Callan to learn that they lived in well-hidden dens.
Callan wasn’t sure why they hid underground when the island seemed free of predators; perhaps they were hiding from birds of prey. Either way, their dens were deep enough that she couldn’t catch them while they hid. She’d considered smoking them out, but they might just refuse to come out, leaving their meat to spoil uselessly underground.
So, she’d waited, watched, and studied the prowler’s behaviors. The prowlers were slow, but cautious and powerfully built. The creatures mainly subsisted off of the coarse, tough grass that covered the island, but they seemed to prefer the tiny, inedible berries that could be found all over the island.
So that was what she used as bait.
Callan silently made her way over to one of her traps, and waited. She had tried to hunt the prowlers many times before, but she’d never managed to succeed, as evidenced by the burning hunger in her stomach. The knowledge that this might be her last real attempt weighed heavily on her as she readjusted her grip on her flint knapped knife, her heart hammering as she waited for the right moment to strike.
The prowler she’d been following sniffed the ground, gradually approaching the handful of berries she’d set as bait.
Callan held her breath. The prowler took a step closer. Then another.
She flicked her flintstone knife, cutting her makeshift rope and dropping the heaviest rock she could lift straight onto the prowler.
A terrible screech filled the air. Callan leapt forward, charred spear in hand to stab the creature with all her might, piercing the creature’s side, but not very deeply – it’s skin was so thick – and Callan leapt back as the prowler flailed, and in its panic the creature leapt off the nearby cliff, dropping a few meters onto the rocky beach below.
The prowler had dragged itself a short distance away by the time Callan made it to the beach, leaving behind a long trail of blood. The prowler was resilient, and Callan’s weapons left much to be desired. Still, she killed it as quickly as she could, and the creature eventually fell silent for the last time.
Callan fell to her knees, panting as the adrenaline began to wear off. She’d succeeded, albeit barely. She sat and rested for another few minutes, then stood up to drag the creature back to her camp.
Halfway through her task, the sun flickered, too quickly to be a cloud.
She looked up.
Oh, it seemed that a large bird had passed overhead.
…a very large bird.
“Oh hell,” Callan swore, dropping the prowler and bolting away towards her camp. The creature in the skies was big, too big, and her panicking mind couldn’t think of anything she could do, nowhere to hide – this blasted island was just so damn flat!
The burrows! She realized, running into and out of her camp without stopping. She could hide inside the burrows made by the prowlers. It wasn’t ideal, but she’d probably survive-
A loud thud interrupted Callan’s thoughts, which was immediately followed by a series of similar sounds, each one closer than the last. She realized that she could not outrun the creature, and in a snap decision spun around to face her pursuer.
The geologist flung her arms apart, making herself look as big as possible while she screamed as loudly as she could.
In the next instant she was slammed into the ground by a golden blur.
Callan kicked and clawed, but the limb atop her chest was completely immovable. With her back against the ground she had an unobstructed view of the creature: a massive golden reptilian winged thing that could only be called a dragon, and she no longer had to fake her screams.
«Stop,» the dragon said, growling into her face. «I’m not going to hurt you.»
Callan abruptly stopped her struggles. She panted, feeling her heart beating in her throat as she listened to dragon’s vocalizations.
The cadence of the vocalization, the variation…it sounded like speech.
«I’m going to let you up now,» the dragon said, still in that same slow and almost gentle tone. Slowly, the creature lifted its taloned hands off her chest, and Callan realized she hadn’t actually been hurt at all.
The geologist pushed herself to her feet, eyeing the dragon warily. She supposed there wasn’t much point to caution, considering that she could neither fight nor flee from it.
Meanwhile the golden dragon eyed her with bright blue eyes that sparkled with what Callan hoped was interest, and she noted that it – or rather, they – were large enough that they had to lower their neck to be eye-level with her. The dragon sat back on their haunches and nodded when she did not flee, apparently satisfied at having made their intentions clear.
«You really are a crafter, aren’t you? Where did you come from?» the dragon growled, though Callan had the impression that the somewhat-guttural noises weren’t intended to be threatening. «Hmm…I suppose I should learn your name first…assuming you have one?» The golden dragon paused, then tapped their chest with a wing-digit to say, «‘Qnaro’».
Callan stared. It seemed that the dragon was…introducing themself? “Kn…arrow?” she quavered, pointing an uncertain finger at the dragon.
«Qnaro,» Qnaro corrected. Their tone was completely alien to Callan, but there was something about the pronunciation that reminded her of a parent correcting a child.
“Knaro,” Callan said, feeling that was quite close.
«Qnaro,» Qnaro said, a little more sharply this time.
“Qnaro?” Callan said, not hearing any difference.
«...perhaps you just need some practice,» Qnaro hummed, muttering incomprehensibly. «You do look quite thin. Maybe a good meal will help.»
Callan watched as Qnaro abruptly turned around and walked away. She paused for a moment, uncertain if she should follow the creature.
«Follow,» Qnaro said, beckoning her over with a wave of a folded wing. The dragon waited, and only continued to walk when she obeyed their request.
Callan trailed behind the dragon as the creature led her back to her camp. The winged predator took a few seconds to examine each of her makeshift tools, taking particular interest in her currently extinguished campfire.
«How under the sky were you able to start a fire…?» Qnaro asked, glancing between herself and the burnt wood.
“You can use it if you want,” Callan replied, guessing what the dragon’s question was…unless he wanted to see her start a fire?
«Questions for later, then,» Qnaro rumbled as they resumed their walk. The dragon continued until they arrived at the deceased prowler, which Qnaro easily dragged back to camp.
«To kill a creature larger than yourself…quite the little hunter, aren’t you?» Qnaro said as their eyes darted between Callan and her slain quarry. “Qnaro,” Qnaro said, tapping their chest before gesturing expectantly at Callan.
“Jane,” Callan said, gesturing to herself with a thumb.
“Jay-nh,” Qnaro said slowly. “Jane.”
“Yes!” Callan said, relieved that the dragon could pronounce Murian words, especially since her pronunciation was apparently lacking.
“Hrrrm,” Qnaro said, rumbling in thought. “Jane. Nah Tak,” they said, pointing at the dead campfire.
Callan raised an eyebrow, but supposed it was better to do as the dragon asked. The dragon watched intently as she used her bow-drill to start a fire. She’d first succeeded a few days after Edward had died, and now she’d grown proficient enough to start a fire in several minutes – assuming she had the required materials, at least.
The dragon stared with interest as she drilled the wood branch, which began to smoke. Callan picked up the smouldering grass and laid it upon a few dried branches, coaxing it to life with her gentle breaths.
Soon, a flame flickered to life.
«What an interesting method,» Qnaro murmured, adding more precious wood to the fire – too much, in Callan’s opinion, though she managed to bite her tongue. The dragon seemed to have a plan, and they soon began dressing the prowler, stripping it from its hide with what seemed to be practiced ease. Qnaro demonstrated surprising dexterity with their vaguely hand-like talons by wrapping the prowler in layers of coconut leaves. Lastly, they selected a few appropriately shaped rocks to place atop the fire, then stacked the wrapped prowler on top of the rocks.
«Done,» Qnaro said, licking their talons clean before turning to Callan. «Now, let’s teach you some words while we wait.»
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“No. Say ‘Qnaro’.”
“Qnaro,” Callan sighed, having lost track of how many times she’d tried to pronounce their name.
“No, no,” Qnaro said, shaking their head impatiently. The dragon had renewed their efforts for Callan to pronounce their name properly, to no avail.
Snorting in frustration, Qnaro stood up and left to stoke the dying embers. Callan noted that the dragon didn’t seem to have any external features of anatomy that would usually be seen on a male, so Callan decided to mentally label the dragon a ‘she’ for the time being.
The two of them had taught each other much in the last hour, with the topic largely centering around personal information along with common nouns. Callan hadn’t bothered breaching the topic of pronouns yet, as she felt it would only complicate things to introduce ambiguity and conjugation at this stage.
Perhaps the most shocking thing Callan had learned from Qnaro was that dragons could easily live for 300 years, with elders reaching 500 years of age. The golden dragon herself claimed to be 102 years old, and she seemed perfectly hale and hearty to Callan.
“I no can say you name,” Callan said, exasperated. “I…give you name?” she asked hopefully.
“Hrrm…” Qnaro rumbled, mulling this over. “Yes. You give me name.”
“I give you name…Aurum?” Callan asked.
“What is Aurum meaning?”
“Aurum is name for gold,” Callan said, wriggling the gold wedding ring on her pinky finger. The dragon had taken great interest in her ring – so much so that she was afraid she might try to take it. Fortunately Qnaro never did, though Callan did find the dragon’s blue eyes lingering on the shiny item from time to time.
“...Gold is name for gold,” Qnaro said, visibly confused.
“Is old name,” Callan shrugged.
“I not…gold gold color?” Qnaro grumbled, sounding frustrated as she fumbled with her limited Murian vocabulary.
“You gold color,” Callan said, confused. Qnaro’s scales obviously didn’t shine like polished gold, but she was inarguably gold-colored…or at least a rich yellow.
Qnaro scratched her jaw, glancing between her forearm and Callan’s ring. “You give me name ‘Aurum’,” she finally nodded.
“Good,” Callan nodded.
“I give you name ‘Laishaka’,” Aurum continued.
“What?” Callan asked, confused. That wasn’t part of the deal!
“I give thing. You give thing,” Aurum said. «Is fair. Is trade.»
“...okay, you give me name,” Callan sighed, rolling her eyes. “What ‘Laishaka’ mean?”
“Gat,” Aurum said, pantomiming a large object with her talons. “Lai,” she said, bringing her foreclaws together to imply a much smaller object. Then she picked up one of Callan’s spears, pointed it at her, then at the cooking prowler. “Shaka,” the dragon finished, making a stabbing motion.
Little…slayer? Or was it hunter? At least it didn’t seem like an insult. “Okay, you give me name ‘Laishaka’."
“Good,” Aurum nodded, then sniffed at the prowler. The embers had died down by now, and very little smoke emanated from the fire. “Food is yes,” she said, moving the cooked prowler from the pit onto a slab of rock.
Callan reached for one of the prowler’s six legs, but the limb was still too hot to touch. She watched as Aurum tore off a limb and held it without much issue, though she did blow on it before eating. Those scales of her must be rather effective insulators, the geologist noted, and she left to retrieve a coconut leaf.
Using the leaf as a glove she was able to tear the leg from the body with ease, as the cooking process had rendered the meat quite tender.
The geologist took an experimental nibble. The meat was unsalted, lean, and gamey, but soon she was tearing into the meat with gusto, heedless of the way the hot food scalded the inside of her mouth.
«Don’t choke now,» Aurum said, in a tone which Callan interpreted as amusement.
“Stuff it,” Callan mumbled through a mouthful of meat, and snickered at Qnaro’s bemused expression. Abruptly she paused and realized how long it had been since she’d spoken with anyone – sixty-five days, to be exact. She’d been lonely, of course, but she hadn’t quite realized how relieved she was to have someone to talk to…even if that someone was an oversized flying apex predator.
Callan’s appetite abruptly dissipated, and she suddenly felt very homesick.
«Are you full already?» Aurum asked, cocking her head. «I suppose-»
“Where you fly from?” Callan asked urgently, having been struck with a sudden realization.
Aurum looked surprised by the interruption. “What?” she asked, cocking her head.
“Where you fly from?” Callan repeated, making flapping motions with her arms before pointing up at the sky.
«Ah,» Aurum said, and licked a talon clean. “You. Me,” she said, stabbing a hole in the ground, presumably marking their location. The geologist watched as she jabbed other holes into the dirt, and her excitement bubbled over as she began to draw a very familiar outline – the island continent that was the destination of the Horizon.
“Yes! Oh, yes yes yes!” Callan cheered, ignoring the odd look Aurum gave her. She should have asked about this much earlier, but she’s just been so distracted, and- “You me here?” she asked, tapping the first marking before gesturing to the elongated island.
“You me here,” Aurum confirmed, then tapped the largest island again. “This is ‘Loahm’.”
The geologist rubbed her chin. Aurum’s kind were obviously intelligent, and such large creatures were surely native to Loahm, or were at least longtime inhabitants. “Days from here to here?” Callan asked, knowing that Aurum wouldn’t be able to understand all of the words, but she hoped her gestures make up for their lack of vocabulary.
“Four days, five days, six days?” Aurum said, shrugging her wings.
Callan frowned. If she had to guess, the duration of travel was likely quite dependent on the weather. The hurricane had surely delayed the Horizon, but she couldn’t imagine the ship making landfall any later than day sixteen or seventeen. That meant the crew had been setting up camp for almost two months now; far more than enough time to meet any dragons.
“Humans,” Callan said, drawing a group of stick figures while Aurum watched intently. “Humans go to Loahm,” she said, circling the figures and connecting them to the island continent.
«So there are more of you,» Aurum murmured. “What is days you here?” she asked, sounding oddly urgent.
“I here, seventy-three days.”
«Oh, heavens,» Aurum hissed, shooting up in dismay. The sudden noise startled Callan, who warily eyed the dragon as she paced back and forth. «Seventy-three days…someone must have found them by now, but maybe…» Aurum abruptly stopped, and whipped her head to face Callan. “You go Loahm?”
“Yes!” Callan exclaimed, glad that the dragon was willing to help-
“I give thing, you give thing,” Aurum said, staring intently at Callan. “I, you go Loahm. You give gold ring?”
Callan looked down at her ring, hesitating. “Okay, I give ring,” she reluctantly agreed. It made no sense to refuse and die here, after all, and it was a small price to pay for her life.
“Good. Sun go down, sun go up, we go Loahm.”
“Tomorrow,” Callan nodded. “Tomorrow we go to Loahm.”
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Qnaro curled tightly around himself, trying and failing to go to sleep.
He was certain that these ‘humans’ were the crafters of legend – those responsible for the creation of unexplainable artifacts that would occasionally be discovered washed up along a beach. He had so many burning questions, but not the words to ask them. It was almost torture to have the answer to so many mysteries sitting in front of him, but with no way to understand them.
Crafter artifacts were first discovered thousands of years ago, but the frequency of these discoveries had increased greatly in the last few centuries. Most of these items were glass containers of immaculate quality, while others were sturdy wooden containers of varying contents – many of which were filled with alcohol of exceptional purity.
However, the biggest discovery came 192 years ago, when something big had washed up upon the shores of Loahm – something he now knew was called a ‘ship’. This finding granted dragons the greatest insight into the nature of the crafters yet; not just because it was a treasure trove of tools and goods, but because the ship contained several skeletons which presumably belonged to deceased crafters.
No one knew what had happened to the crafters, but the quarrel over that particular finding was legendary, with several notable dragons dying before the Brewer clan won the majority of the spoils. Anyone was allowed to see the crafter corpses (for a small fee), and so the general description of their skeletons became common knowledge in the last two centuries. There was some argument over whether or not the crafters stood on two legs, so at least that was one mystery solved…even if Laishaka did look like she could be blown over by a particularly strong gust of wind.
That wasn’t the only strange thing about the crafter either. Most of Laishaka’s body was covered in a material similar to that found on that fateful ship, but as far as he could tell her fur was solely isolated to certain parts of her head and two oddly mobile strips of fur above her eyes, meaning that the rest of it was simply exposed hide.
The crafter corpses did have an odd lack of scales, feathers, or fur save for the aforementioned portions, but no one had expected them to have smooth and delicate hide that looked like it might be split with a gentle prod of one’s talons.
Qnaro glanced at the crafter – or rather, the human, who slept in a very shallow cave a short distance away, using the slain digger-grazer as a blanket. She seemed rightfully wary of him, so he made sure to keep his distance by sleeping on a patch of long grass. It wasn’t terribly comfortable, but he wasn’t bothered, having slept in far worse places before.
The dragon sighed and set his head back down, knowing it would be some time until he could finally fall asleep.
Mission Day 87: A little birdie
“Up,” a deep, brassy voice said.
Callan stirred, feeling like she had the strangest dream. She’d been talking to…a dragon, of all things. The geologist groaned as she rolled over in a coarse fur blanket. She really was going crazy.
“Up,” said the same voice, with less patience this time.
Callan bolted awake, and came face to face with the golden muzzle of a dragon. Suddenly she was wide awake as she recalled yesterdays’ memories.
“We fly now,” Aurum said.
“Wait,” Callan said, “I need my things.”
Aurum snorted impatiently as Callan gathered her few belongings. She didn’t really need much of her makeshift tools anymore, but she wrapped up what she could in the jacket she’d been wearing. This task didn’t take long, and soon the only thing left to do was to say goodbye.
“What this?” Aurum asked, peering at the wooden upsilon Callan had used as a gravemarker. It was really just a branch that she’d broken into an upsilon, but it was the best that she could do with the tools she had.
“Dead human,” Callan sighed, committing the sight to memory. Perhaps she’d come back one day to give Ed a proper site of rest. The geologist turned her head to glance at the dragon, who silently lowered her head before the grave. She realized now that she had a way home – once she made it to Loahm, she just had to rendezvous with the rest of the crew, which surely wouldn’t be difficult with the island being inhabited by intelligent dragons.
That is, assuming no one shot a dragon before realizing they were sapient. That possibility was more likely than Callan liked to think, but there was nothing she could do about that now. At the very least, her odds of survival had skyrocketed now that she had Aurum’s aid.
“Let’s go,” Callan said, straightening her back.
«Go,» Aurum agreed, and reached for Callan with her foreclaws.
“Whoa whoa whoa, what are you doing?” Callan asked, waving the talons away.
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“We fly,” Aurum said plainly, and mimed a grabbing motion.
“I go here?” Callan asked, pointing at the base of the dragon’s neck.
“No,” Aurum said, tossing her head with what felt like exasperation. “I fly, you…” she trailed off, then picked up a stray stone to toss into the air.
The rock flew straight up, slowed, then fell right back down, striking the beach with an unceremonious whump.
“Fall. Okay,” Callan admitted. “So you want to…” she trailed off, making a grabbing motion with both hands.
“Yes?” Aurum said, cocking her head as if to say ‘do you have a better idea?’
“...Okay,” Callan sighed, lifting her arms up. “Let’s try it.”
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“Good?” Aurum asked, her brassy voice easily heard over the billowing wind.
“Good!” Callan called out, struggling to make herself heard with Aurum’s talons wrapped securely around her body. The dragon had tried carrying Callan in several different ways, and the best method they’d come up with involved Aurum holding Callan in her foreclaws, parallel with the rest of her body. This unfortunately meant that Callan had a sideways view of things, but it did shield her face from the worst of the wind, and it was better than having half her view blocked by the dragon’s underbelly for the entire duration of their flights.
One problem they encountered was that the strong winds Callan experienced in flight would gradually become a dangerous chill. To fix this, Aurum had wrapped Callan with the pelt of the prowler; the makeshift blanket was a bit foul, but it was certainly better than freezing.
“Fly now?” Aurum asked.
“Fly now,” Callan agreed, and Aurum angled her wings to fly westward, in the direction of the rising sun.
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“You good?” Aurum asked, setting Callan onto the ground.
“G-good,” the geologist stammered. She tried to stand, though her legs quivered like a newborn fawn’s.
“I go hunt. You no go,” Aurum said, tapping the ground with a talon. she waited for Callan to nod, then broke into a sprint before leaping back into the skies.
She came back a few short minutes later, shortly after Callan had gathered a pile of kindling.
“No bow-drill,” Aurum said, dropping a massive tuna onto the ground.
“Why?” Callan asked, confused. The dragon had shown great interest in the tool yesterday, and she didn't want to eat the fish raw, did he?
Aurum made an odd chuffing sound, then spat onto the kindling with a noise that sounded like an electrical snap.
Callan looked down, and stared as a glob of burning spit kindled the gathered branches.
“...what.”
“Fire,” the dragon said, shrugging casually.
“Wha…but…” Callan stammered. “If you could do that then why’d you have me use this in the first place?” she demanded, indignantly waving the bow-drill in the dragon’s face.
“I want, see you make fire,” Aurum shrugged, evidently gleaning enough context to understand her question, if not her words.
Callan huffed, crossing her arms. She supposed it was understandable for Aurum to be curious about it, but it still miffed her to have wasted all that effort when the dragon could have started a fire in seconds all along.
“Bow-drill is…good,” Aurum said, in what might have been a placating tone as she tore open the stomach of the fish.
“If you say so,” Callan grumbled. She glanced around, but couldn't think of anything to do. “I…do thing?” she asked, doubtful that her assistance was required at all.
“Do thing?” Aurum asked, glancing up from the fish. “What is thing?”
Callan scratched her head, uncertain of how to convey her question. “You need wood?” she asked, gesturing to the small pile of yet-unburnt branches she'd gathered.
“No. Stay,” the dragon said, pointing downwards before returning to her task.
“Oh. Okay.” Callan glanced around for a moment, then awkwardly sat down to watch the dragon work.
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It didn't take long for Aurum to finish preparing the fish, and the two of them had soon gone back to expanding each other's vocabulary while they waited for the fish to cook.
“What is-” Aurum asked, but was interrupted by a bird landing on her talons.
«Oh. Hello, Halfie,» the dragon rumbled, raising her foreclaw to eye the bird, which Callan noted to have a very odd coloration – the bird looked as if it were two different birds stitched together, with a vibrant blue left half and a full brown right half.
“Are you talking to the bird?” Callan asked.
“Yes,” Aurum said candidly as the bird chirped at her. «No Halfie, food isn't ready yet.»
“Bird…have name?” Callan asked uncertainly.
“Yes. What is…word for one, make two?”
One make two? That almost sounded like a riddle.
“Two is same,” Aurum elaborated, when Callan could not provide an answer. The dragon pointed a talon at the line of color trailing down the bird, who surprisingly did not seem threatened at all.
“Half,” Callan answered, feeling a little silly. The answer was a little obvious in retrospect.
“Bird name is Half,” Aurum nodded. “Half help me go you.”
Callan blinked at that sentence. It sounded like Aurum was saying that the bird had helped her find Callan, but that didn't make much sense…not unless the bird was a lot smarter than the ones Callan knew. “How Half help you?” she asked.
“Half home is island,” Aurum said, gesturing a wing towards the island where Callan had made landfall. “I see birds and Half here, no home. I see why.”
Ah. So her presence had displaced the birds. That made a lot more sense.
Suddenly several more birds landed on the ground near Aurum, these ones either mostly blue or brown, but none were colored like Half. «Of course you all show up the moment food is ready,» Aurum said, chuffing with what sounded like amusement.
“Birds all have names?” Callan asked, surprised.
“Some,” Aurum shrugged. “I teach later. Food ready.”
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“What you do?” Aurum asked as they sat by the fire.
“Using tool,” Callan said, lifting her homemade sextant to the sky, lining it up with the north star.
“What tool do?” Aurum asked curiously.
“...it, uh…” Callan scratched her head, unsure of how to answer. She had an idea, but it would take some time to explain the concepts she needed to convey.
It took some time, but she managed to shave off all the hairs of another coconut. Using this vaguely spherical object she carved her best approximation of Loahm into the shell and showed it to Aurum.
“This is Loahm.”
“Why…small?” the dragon asked, sounding oddly offended.
“This is ‘Earth’,” Callan said, gesturing to the entire coconut. “And this…is Mainland,” she said, carving a rough outline of her homeland.
“Humans…from Main-land?” Aurum asked, eyes wide.
“Yes,” Callan said, then set about carving the last continent. “This is…well, this land has no name.”
“Land is big!” Aurum exclaimed, rumbling in excitement. “You do tool right?”
“Do tool right?” Callan asked, confused.
“Big land is big like this? Loahm is small like this?”
“Oh…yes?” Callan said, eyeing the coconut uncertainly. She judged that it was at most off by a factor of a half, which wasn’t terrible considering her less-than-ideal tools.
“I…take?” Aurum asked. The pause between her words felt different this time, less a result of her small vocabulary and more like genuine uncertainty.
“Take,” Callan agreed, holding out the coconut.
The dragon carefully plucked the hard fruit from Callan’s hands, and examined it with an almost reverent air. “Wait,” Aurum said, narrowing her eyes. “How you know this?”
“That…” Callan scratched her head, frustrated at this rather expected roadblock. “Is hard to explain.”
“Coconut is hard,” Aurum agreed in confusion. “Coconut not my question.”
Callan groaned in frustration as she wracked her head for another way to explain things. “I not know how to say this.”
“Hrrrm,” Aurum rumbled, sounding just as annoyed as she was. “You say why you make tool?”
“Yes, I can,” Callan nodded, and gestured for her to give back the coconut-turned-globe. “This is Earth, stars are above world,” she explained, pointing to the lights in the sky.
“Understand,” Aurum said, bobbing her head in agreement.
“Earth…spins.”
“Earth no spin,” Aurum said, cocking her head. “Stars move. Earth no move.”
“Oh boy,” Callan sighed. She was fairly certain it was impossible to prove that the Earth wasn’t unmoving – at least, certainly not with the tools on hand. “Stars move,” Callan said, changing tact. “But one star no move.”
“I know this,” Aurum nodded, pointing at the north star. “Star is named ‘Klad’.”
“Good,” Callan nodded, and picked up a stick to draw a circle upon the ground. “We are here,” she said, marking an arbitrary point on the circle. “Klad is here,” she added, drawing a dot some distance away. “I use this tool, see Klad, know where we are,” Callan said, demonstrating the usage of the device by allowing gravity to pull the pendulum at the center of the sextant to point straight downwards. The geologist squinted as she counted the notches in the shell. She was about…thirty degrees north, meaning they’d travelled about 200 kilometers south. “We…here,” she said, drawing an arc through the map in the sand, though she wasn’t sure if Aurum would understand.
The dragon seemed baffled by this, but with some further demonstrations she finally understood that the two maps depicted the same thing from different perspectives.
“This…no tell you where you are,” the dragon said, her spines flattened against her neck. “Earth is not like this, Earth is like this,” she said, pointing at the coconut.
“Yes,” Callan agreed. “This tool say I am…somewhere here,” she said, tracing a line upon the makeshift globe to denote her latitude.
“This tool no good. Why you make?” Aurum asked skeptically.
“I know where other humans go,” Callan said, drawing another larger sketch of Loahm upon the ground. “Other humans go…here,” she said, marking out the crew’s intended destination. “I use this tool, and-”
“You do land, know where see crew!” Aurum concluded, her spines standing up in excitement.
“Yes!” Callan smiled. “Tool good?”
“Tool very good!” Aurum agreed, bobbing her head enthusiastically.
Mission Day 88: Odos & Bath
Callan whipped her head around, astonished by the speed with which the creatures had surrounded her.
“Guaa!” one particularly curious bird squawked, waving its stubby wings in what seemed to be a cheerful manner.
The geologist scratched her head in bemusement. These flightless birds appeared to be the main inhabitant of this island, and the creatures seemed to lack any sort of survival instincts; the admittedly adorable creatures showed no hesitation in waddling up to Callan, even with Aurum standing next to her.
Callan slowly picked up a bird, which seemed to have no issue with being held. “Huh,” she said.
“Name is odo bird,” Aurum said helpfully.
“Well, you no need hunt today,” Callan said, and held the bird down with one hand while she picked up a rock-
“No!” Aurum hissed, startling Callan as the dragon grabbed her forearm. “What you doing?” she growled.
“E…eat?” Callan said weakly.
“No eat!” Aurum ordered, and the dragon continued to glare at Callan until the geologist slowly set the rock down.
“Why no eat?” Callan asked, confused. The only explanation she could think of was that the birds were poisonous, but that didn’t quite explain the dragon’s vehemence.
“Look!” Aurum said, pointing a talon at the bird, who cocked its little head with the most gormless expression Callan had ever seen. “Bird can not fight. Is not good to hunt,” the dragon snorted, as if this were obvious.
“...Okay, no eat,” Callan said, dropping the bird back upon the ground, causing it to squak indignantly.
“Good,” Aurum nodded. “I hunt fish. I will be back soon.” With that the dragon took off into the sky, leaving Callan alone with a horde of waddling birds.
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“Done,” Aurum said as she buried the leaf-wrapped fish in a heap of embers.
“So, what you want learn today?” Callan asked, sitting up from her stretches.
“No learn,” Aurum said, tossing her head. “Follow me, bring your things,” she said, and padded off into the forest.
“Huh? Where are we going?” Callan asked, tossing on her jacket to jog after Aurum.
“Salt make scales itch,” Aurum rumbled, scratching her neck with a wing-thumb as she walked. “Freshwater make scales clean,” she explained, brushing away some dense foliage with a sweep of a foreclaw.
“Oh,” Callan breathed, stunned by the sight of an idyllic, crystal clear pond – the kind usually only seen in paintings.
“You smell bad,” Aurum said candidly, interrupting her reverie. “Use freshwater, make you smell not bad.”
“Thanks, I guess,” Callan said drily, and turned to shield her face when Aurum dove into the water. The dragon stuck her head underwater for a few moments, then popped back up to report that it was safe.
Callan pursed her lips; she honestly couldn’t tell if the dragon was messing with her or not, but she supposed she needed to wash everything anyway, so she emptied her pockets and waded into the pond, clothes and all. The geologist shivered a little, but the water was only a little cool, and any slight discomfort she felt was vastly outweighed by the prospect of being somewhat clean again. After all, she’d barely had enough freshwater to drink on the first island, which meant she hadn’t been able to afford wasting any of it on luxuries like basic hygiene.
Callan waded over to a second smaller waterfall, tugging off her clothing to better wash herself and her garments. It felt so much better to finally be clean again, and the sight of grime falling off her body was quite immensely satisfying.
Once that was done she sat beneath the waterfall, allowing the stream of falling water to loosen her muscles. She hadn’t outright complained to Aurum about it, but being carried around for eight-to-twelve hours at a time was terribly uncomfortable. Callan noted some sturdy-looking vines on the trees around them – maybe they could rig something up to let her fly on Aurum’s back, though she wasn’t sure if the dragon would take offense to that or not.
Aurum had done all the hunting and cooking for the both of them in addition to flying her around, which left Callan with the unpleasant feeling of being literal dead weight. It was a rather stark contrast to her living conditions a mere four days ago, when the geologist had to do everything herself.
She’d volunteered to help with smaller chores, of course, such as gathering firewood, but the dragon didn’t seem to want her taking any unnecessary risks. Perhaps she was afraid of her dying like Edward, which would admittedly leave the dragon in a rather awkward position with respect to the other humans.
Callan sat and relaxed as she pondered the future, but soon realized that Aurum’s side of the pond had gone oddly silent, and a turn of the head revealed the dragon to be staring intently at her.
Aurum was so inhuman that Callan hadn’t really thought much of bathing in front of her, especially when the dragon didn’t wear anything herself. Still, the geologist hadn’t expected Aurum to eye her with such scrutiny, and it was still uncomfortable to be leered at, even if she wasn’t a man in any sense of the word.
“What?” she asked, more exasperated than bothered. If she had to guess, Aurum was probably just curious; the dragon could be a bit blunt and rude at times, but she had never hurt her despite her great strength.
“I curious,” Aurum shrugged. “You not not have clothes before.”
“Is bad to not have clothes. And is bad to see human not have clothes,” Callan said pointedly, keeping her back turned.
“Why?” Aurum asked incredulously.
“...human thing,” Callan sighed. “Please do not look.”
“Humans weird,” Aurum grumbled. There was a splash, and the dragon swam past Callan to step out of the pond. “Eat food soon. Do not go away. Island is dangerous.”
Callan sank lower under water as the dragon shook herself off. She waited another minute for the dragon to leave, then stepped out of the pond to wring her clothes before putting them back on. It wasn’t pleasant to wear the still-damp clothes, but it was better than nothing. In the end the bath had left her skin feeling a little raw, and she smelled faintly of ash, but at least she didn’t have a layer of grime coating her body now.
“Take,” Aurum said when she returned to their camp, the dragon offering her a haunch of meat wrapped on a palm leaf.
“Thank you,” Callan said, accepting the food. It had cooled to tolerable levels, and she chewed through the leg with enthusiasm, glad that Aurum had moved on from the awkward topic.
“Why you have two small dark things on chest?”
Or not.
“Things on chest make milk to feed child. Milk is white liquid,” Callan sighed, approximating as best as she could with her limited vocabulary.
“Understand,” Aurum nodded unexpectedly. “Some animal make milk. Like this animal,” she said, gesturing to the half-eaten torso.
“Good,” Callan nodded. She was glad that the dragon was familiar with what might have been an awkward concept, and while they were on the subject she decided to scratch a diagram into the dirt. “Male, female,” she said, tapping each of the two human figures. “Human females can make milk and make child.” This time she drew a line from the woman, connecting it to a tiny stick figure.
“Understand. You are female,” Qnaro nodded. “I am male.”
Callan blinked.
“What.”
“Why you surprise?” Qnaro asked, her-his eyes blinking curiously.
“Oh um…” Callan mumbled, suddenly feeling a belated sense of awkwardness at having shared a bath with the male dragon. “I wrong, I think you female.”
Aurum snorted, startling Callan, but then a deep croaking noise emanated from the dragon which she soon recognized as laughter. “Female dragons bigger than male,” Aurum said, gesturing a small distance with a foreclaw. “Female dragons have round horns too,” he added, tracing a curling shape through the air.
“I see,” Callan said, relieved not to have given offense.
Indeed, the dragon seems more concerned with the figures etched into the dirt. “Human female smaller than male? Strange…why you think I female?” The dragon asked, finishing his sentence with a curious tilt of his head.
“Er…well, you don’t have…” Callan stammered, her face flushing with embarrassment while Aurum looked on with an expectant expression. “I mean, some males have…things on outside of body…” she trailed off, hoping Aurum would understand her meaning.
“Understand. Is very weird. Strange too.”
“...A little, yes,” Callan admitted.
“Do human males have hair between legs too?” Aurum asked, using the same neutral tone with which he'd asked every other question.
Callan groaned. “Yes,” she answered, rubbing her forehead in exasperation.
“Why?”
“I don’t know!” Callan blurted out indignantly. “Why you have…have…” she floundered. Every part of the dragon’s body seemed to serve some purpose. “Why you have horns?” she finally managed. The almost-black protuberances didn’t seem very useful, especially compared to other weapons like talons and the ability to spit fire.
“Horns look good,” Aurum said, sounding oddly wounded.
“Oh…er…sorry?”
“Hrmm,” Aurum rumbled, and resumed eating in a rather subdued manner. “Is…bad to talk about human body?” he asked after a moment.
“For humans, yes,” Callan said slowly. “Is…different with not-humans. You did not want to say bad things to me. Is okay.”
“...Good,” Aurum nodded, and finished the rest of his meal at a normal pace.
Mission Day 89: Riding & Predators
“Is this good?” Aurum asked, craning his neck back to check on Callan.
“I think yes!” Callan called back, holding tightly onto the dragon's neck despite the vines keeping her in place.
She'd thrown herself against the makeshift ropes while they were on the ground, of course, and they'd felt very secure, but that didn't mean she wanted to test the dubious strength of the restraints while a hundred meters up in the air.
“I fly to next island now?”
“Yes!” Callan replied, her heart hammering with excitement. Sitting at the base of Aurum’s neck was an immense improvement over being carried around in a bundle of furs, and it was far more comfortable…save for the wind blowing more directly into her face, but she could always shield her face with the prowler’s pelt, and the sight of the open sky was worth a little discomfort.
Aurum nodded in response to her confirmation, adjusted his wings, and ascended to the skies.
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“What is it?” Callan asked, later that night.
The two of them were about to go to sleep when Callan noticed Aurum staring intently at the mouth of the cave.
“Predators,” Aurum said, gesturing out the cave with a nod of his head. “Can you see? Behind the trees.”
“Trees?” Callan hissed under her breath. The new moon meant that the night sky was lit only by starlight, and the geologist could barely see the grass in front of the cave, let alone the trees Aurum mentioned.
“You can not see trees?” Aurum asked, surprised.
“No!” she said. “Do we need to leave?”
“No. Predators will not hunt us,” Aurum rumbled. “...predators will not hunt me, so you is safe,” he clarified, seeing her doubtful expression.
“Oh. That's…good,” Callan said, not entirely comforted by the dragon’s reassurance.
“Lie down,” Aurum said, and the dragon moved to curl around her in a protective circle, and draped his wing over her body.
“Oh…thank you?” Callan said uncertainly.
Aurum gave a wordless rumble in response, a noise that the geologist could feel as much as she could hear. Callan blinked a few times, feeling a little awkward at the proximity, but soon the warmth of the dragon’s body caused her eyelids to grow heavy, and it wasn’t long before she slipped off to sleep.
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Qnaro warily eyed the pygmy raptors as they moved through the forest. The creatures were quite small, and knew better than to cross paths with a dragon like himself, but he still made sure to keep an eye on the cunning predators as they stalked through the forest like drifting smoke.
The dragon stood guard even after the last pygmy raptor slipped off into the night. It was only when he was certain that they’d all left did he set his head down. Laishaka’s breathing had slowed by now, in that way that probably meant she’d fallen asleep.
Qnaro gave a deep sigh; he had spent the vast majority of most of his adult life wandering alone, and he never had reason to protect anyone before. It was a strange feeling, and he wondered if that was what it was like to be responsible for a hatchling. He followed this trail of thought for a little while, and Qnaro realized how little he knew about Laishaka as a person. Did she have a child of her own? She was almost certainly old enough to, though he knew next to nothing about human nature or their culture.
Drifting off to sleep, Qnaro resolved to get to know the human better tomorrow.
Mission Day 90: Arrival
“Is that Loahm?” Callan asked, calling out over the wind.
“Yes,” Aurum rumbled, lowering his neck to give Callan a better view.
Callan’s grip on the vines tightened as she took in the view: a lush forest covered the land, stretching out from the shoreline to the base of the snow-capped mountains, all plastered in a vibrant orange hue by the setting sun. It wasn’t anything terribly alien, but knowing it was an entirely new continent made all the difference in the world.
“Stay with me,” Aurum rumbled as they approached the island-continent. “Loahm has very dangerous predators.”
“...dangerous for you?” Callan asked, suddenly feeling very concerned. She couldn't imagine Aurum being anything other than an apex predator, but if he wasn't…
“For me?” Aurum asked, snorting in amusement. “No. Dangerous for you.”
“Good,” Callan said, sighing in relief.
“...Good?” Aurum asked in confusion.
“Predators dangerous to you would be very very dangerous,” Callan explained.
Aurum did not immediately respond, but rumbled in thought long enough to worry Callan. “Mainland have big predators?” he finally asked.
“Oh, no predators dangerous to you,” Callan said, relieved to reassure his worries.
“Good,” Aurum said, nodding back towards her before he began to make his descent.
The dragon tilted his wings to fall through the air, and Callan abruptly realized that she'd inadvertently told a lie.
If there was one predator that could threaten all of dragonkind, then it would certainly be humanity.
----------------------------------------
“What are you looking for?” Callan asked as Aurum rooted around in the cave.
“This,” Aurum said, shifting one last rock away to expose a cavity, from which he plucked out…a glass bottle?
“...where did you get that?” Callan breathed, her eyes squarely fixed on the very manmade object in Aurum’s foreclaws.
“I find on small island, fifty-three years ago,” Aurum said as Callan accepted the ancient-looking bottle. It was empty on the inside, save for a rolled up piece of parchment.
Judging by the lack of a cork Aurum had likely examined the artifact already, and Callan merely had to flip the bottle over to extract its contents. The paper was thick and seemed to have been of good quality, but age had taken its toll on the letter which now cracked with age. Despite this, the letter was in good enough condition for Callan to unroll it, revealing the letters written on its surface.
“What is markings?” Aurum asked. “Do you understand this?”
“Yes, these are words,” Callan said, her brows knitting together as she read the text. “Wait, I…see what words are here.”
Dearest Sherry,
I have thought of nothing but you for these past few days, ev’r since the fire killed half my crew and ruined all our stores of rations. Now I stare death in the face, and I say with certainty that I have made the gravest mistake of my life in leaving you and our family.
On the subject of family, I am sure my brother would see that you and our children will want for nothing. Do thank him for me, and tell him I am sorry for not heeding his advice as well – truly, I did little to deserve a brother such as him.
My deepest apologies if this letter is overshort, I have written eight such letters alone today in hopes that one would reach you. I would give the world to spend the rest of my life with you, but as this is not to be, I hope you will forgive my selfishness in requesting one final favor:
Please my dear, love again, and live a long and happy life.
Forever yours in life and in death,
Leonel Wheeler
895/09/03
“These are words? What do words say?” Aurum asked impatiently. “Do you understand this?”
“Wait”, Callan murmured absently as she read the fragile final message. Leonel Wheeler…she recalled the name as the captain of a rather large expedition, which had never returned.
It was far before her time, and she didn't recall hearing anything regarding the fate of the man's family.
“Human that make this die on ship,” Callan said, after a moment. “He make words for person he make child with. Person make child with is…mate,” the geologist explained.
“What he say? When he make this?” Aurum asked insistently.
“This make 57 years ago...other things is hard to explain,” Callan sighed. “He die soon after making this, but he want to be home with his mate for…many many years.”
“...oh,” Aurum said, flattening his spines. “Mate is word for person you have child with,” the dragons said slowly. “What is word for person you do not leave?”
“Do not leave?” Callan echoed, not understanding Aurum’s meaning.
“Person you do not leave, person you do all things with,” Aurum elaborated. “In my language this word is like ‘other-half’.”
“Is that…different from mate?” Callan asked, confused by the odd description.
“Is very different,” Aurum said, blinking with an incredulous air. “Mate and other-half is same for humans?”
“Yes. Human mates do things…together,” Callan said, shifting uncomfortably.
“...you have mate on ship?” Aurum asked tentatively.
“No, he is…home, on the mainland.”
“Why mate on Mainland? You say human mates do things together.”
“I know,” Callan sighed. “It is…complicated,” she said, glancing pointedly at Aurum.
“Why complicated?” Aurum asked, oblivious to the subtlety of human body language. “...You have childs with mate?”
“...No,” Callan sighed, fiddling with her wedding band. “We…try, but no child. Do you have child?”
“No,” Aurum shrugged. “I not want child, and no one want child with me.” The dragon tilted his head in realization. “...Mate give you ring?” he asked, blinking as he drew his head back in realization. “What happen?”
“Okay, fine, I explain,” Callan sighed. “Mate name is Gordon…We plan to go on ship together, but Gordon hurt, and he stay home.” The geologist pursed her lips as she recalled their argument. “Gordon want me to stay with him, but I want to come here.”
“I understand,” Aurum nodded.
“You do?” Callan asked, raising skeptical eyebrow.
“I…very small. Not good at many things,” Aurum admitted, very quietly for a creature of his size. “But I always want explore very much. I want see new things others not see, more than all other things. You think same, yes?”
“...I think almost the same,” Callan said, after a moment's thought. “See things is good, but…I want do things others not do.”
“Yes, I think this too!” Aurum said, the dragon’s head bobbing heartily in agreement.
Callan smiled faintly at this, and slowly slid off her ring. “Here,” she said, holding the ring out to Aurum. “We agreed on a trade, right?”
Aurum stared at the ring in her palm, a faint glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes. “...keep ring,” he said, nosing her hand away. “Too small. I can not take.” The dragon wriggled his large foreclaws for emphasis.
“Oh,” Callan said, surprised at his refusal of the reward. “But…you said trade important.”
“Yes…” Aurum rumbled, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Hmm…we make new trade,” the dragon proposed, “I help you find humans, you help me go to Mainland.”
“I…cannot make others do what I want,” Callan said cautiously. “But I think other humans want to bring dragons to Mainland. I tell them I want you to go with us, okay?”
Aurum paused, and rumbled in thought as he considered this. “Okay,” he finally nodded, and lowered himself so that she could climb up to his back. “We go find humans.”
----------------------------------------
Qnaro scanned the land and seas as thoroughly as he could, but he still could not quite help wondering how odd it was for humans to treat mates and partners as the same thing. Did they simply not have children until they found someone that they loved? The thought seemed absurd – how were they able to support their population if they were so picky? Not to mention that Callan seemed to have difficulty having children even with her mate or partner or whatever he was.
Perhaps each human had many eggs? But…no, humans fed their children with those milk-nubs of theirs, which implied that they were like those animals whose infants popped out of the mother without need of any shell at all. It was possible that they had many children at a time, but another explanation was that they simply had many children on separate occasions with the same partner.
Qnaro was curious about exactly how different humans treated partnerships; maybe it wasn’t as rare or treasured as it was among dragons, but Callan still seemed quite affected by the separation from her partner, and in the end he could not see it being very dissimilar, no matter their differences.
The dragon shook his head, clearing his mind to focus on the search. Partners were meant to be together, but the two humans could only be reunited if he actually found the ship.
Mission Day 91: Search
The two of them had made it to Loahm late last night, so they were forced to begin their search in the morning.
Their current latitude was 26°N, a few degrees northward of the Horizon’s destination. While counterintuitive, this approach narrowed down their field of search to one direction instead of two, meaning that they’d simply have to fly south to guarantee that they’d fly over their intended destination.
“Look at ocean and rivers too,” Callan reminded Aurum as they flew southward. “Look for anything strange. Other humans maybe hide ship.”
“I remember,” Aurum rumbled, and slowly panned his head back and forth as he scanned his surroundings. “We find humans today?” he asked.
“Maybe,” Callan said, with less certainty than she would have liked. The Horizon should have made landfall nearly two months ago, and any number of things could have happened in that span of time, most of which were rather unpleasant to think about.
“We look, talk later,” Aurum said, glancing back at Callan before straightening his neck.
“...Yes,” Callan managed, her grip on the vines tightening.
----------------------------------------
“We fly long time.”
“I know,” Callan sighed. “Maybe just a little longer-”
“Sun is setting,” Aurum said, lightly tossing his head. “I know a cave. We go eat and sleep there.”
“...okay,” Callan quietly murmured, to no one in particular – Aurum had already changed course, flying over Loahm to seek shelter for the night.
“You know where other humans are?” Aurum asked he landed, crouching to let Callan dismount.
“I don’t know,” Callan sighed. “We look more tomorrow.”
“...yes, we do that,” Aurum said after a moment’s consideration. “If no find ship, I talk to other dragons tomorrow tomorrow. Find if others know humans.”
“Good,” Callan nodded, trying to reassure herself that this was only to be expected. Rationally speaking, it would have been rather strange if the Horizon had stayed in one place for so long. That certainly explained the ship’s absence, but it did nothing to help her find the ship now.
Mission Day 93: Discovery
They spent another day searching the land, but there was no trace of the Horizon to be found. To be accurate, it was Aurum who was doing the searching – the only thing Callan could do on his back was to slow him down, so she’d been left on a small island for her safety.
They'd done the same on the second day, except Aurum would seek out various other dragons to see if anyone had heard anything.
Callan could do nothing but wait for Aurum’s return, so the geologist spent her time examining the rocks and minerals that could be found on this new island. She was surprised to find an abundance of copper ore strewn about the surface – flecks of the stuff could be found mixed in with another white crystal, which was certainly calcite judging by the color and cleavage of the mineral.
Geologically speaking, the island Aurum had saved her from was quite boring. That landmass didn't have much going for it aside from having an abundance of flint, and the two days passed relatively quickly for the geologist as she examined her surroundings.
“I talk to many dragons. They do not know weird things,” Aurum said as he returned at the end of the second day.
“Damnit,” Callan swore, and tried not to be disappointed. Any hopes she had were dashed when yesterday's search and inquiry turned up nothing.
“I can not ask others ‘do you know what humans are’,” Aurum snorted, flattening his spines, “but they say and do normal things.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense, the ship has to be around here somewhere, right?” Callan muttered as she paced back and forth. Did they go home after all? “How many dragons are there on Loahm?” she asked, turning to Aurum.
“What is ten hundreds?”
“Thousand.”
“What is ten thousand?”
“That’s just ten thousand.”
“There are ten thousand dragons,” Aurum answered.
“Really?” Callan tilted her head. “How do you know?”
Aurum shrugged his wings. “We count.”
Callan didn’t know what to say to that, so she decided to trust Aurum’s figure for now. The satellite imagery imagery that Longshot 12 obtained wasn’t the clearest of photos, but it was enough for analysts to estimate Loahm to have a surface area of around 1 million square kilometers. With a population of ten thousand dragons, that meant the average population density was 1 dragon per 100 square kilometers.
Aurum had said that most dragons lived in groups of less than 5, while some like him lived alone. It wasn’t impossible for the crew of the Horizon to have landed, done some exploring, and then left without any dragons noticing (especially if the island was home to dangerous predators as Aurum claimed) but if that were the case then…what was she supposed to do? Introduce dragons to humanity all by herself?
“Maybe other humans talk with other dragons, and they hide,” Aurum suggested.
“What?” Callan asked. She hadn’t considered that question at all. “Why would they hide?”
“If dragons tell other dragons, other dragons will fly to see humans,” Aurum explained. “Many thousand dragons in one location for long time is bad. No food.”
“But why do this?” Callan protested. “They can not hide for very long time.”
“There is…” Aurum paused, scratching his jaw in thought. “Dragons fly to do things together on longest day of year.”
“Solstice,” Callan said. “The longest day of the year is the solstice.”
“Solstice is when many dragons will be in one place,” Aurum nodded. “Dragons and humans maybe talk to other dragons at solstice.”
“That’s…possible,” Callan admitted. It made sense to address everyone in one place, logistically speaking. “But how do we find other humans now?”
“I do not know,” Aurum said, flattening his spines, and the two of them sat in silence as they considered their options.
Aurum would need to introduce Callan to other dragons.
They had no way of knowing which dragons were hypothetical allies to the crew of the Horizon, and they had no way of confirming their knowledge and allegiance without revealing Callan’s own existence, which would cause news of the humans to break out across the land.
…unless Callan sought to turn these dragons into allies of her own. That would ensure all possible outcomes to be safe…assuming the dragons they contacted were trustworthy.
“Do you know other dragons that you…like?” Callan asked.
“Like?” Aurum echoed, tilting his head in confusion.
“Dragons that you know will tell and do true things. Dragons that will help humans. Word is allies,” Callan elaborated.
“I know some,” Aurum said, tilting his head in a rather uncertain manner. “Why?”
“Maybe other humans make allies with other dragons, we do not know, but we can make allies for solstice too.”
“But…what if humans gone?”
“They will be back,” Callan said confidently, or as confidently as she could manage. Surely they would not abandon everything, not when so many resources had been invested into the expedition.
“...Okay, we go make allies,” Aurum nodded, then suddenly jolted upwards. Callan followed his line of sight, and saw a dragon approaching from Loahm. “Go hide!” the dragon hissed.
“Where?!” Callan demanded, gesturing wildly at their surroundings.
«Shit…!» Aurum spat, swearing in his native tongue. “He follow me here. Climb on!”
Callan wrung her hands as Aurum flung on the vine harness, one that they’d made this morning to replace the old one which had begun to stiffen and crack with old age. Once he was done Callan climbed onto his back, and the two of them waited for the unknown dragon to make their final approach.
“I maybe fly away,” Aurum muttered under his breath. “Be ready.”
“Understand,” Callan whispered back, her eyes darting to the vine harness.
----------------------------------------
«Is that a searing crafter? Where in the skies did you find them!?» A leaf-green dragon demanded as he landed a short distance away. Callan apprehensively noted that this newcomer was larger than Aurum, and by a fair margin too.
«My name is Qnaro,» Aurum rumbled. «I found her on an island far east of here.»
«On an island?» The dragon echoed dumbly. «Ah. Apologies. My name is Xhorhw. What were they doing on that island? Were there any others of their kind?» the green dragon asked, his eyes flicking up to eye Callan.
Aurum paused, hesitating for a split second. «I don't know where she came from, but I'm going to tell everyone about her at the plateau, during the solstice.»
«Oh, how many people have you told?» Xhorhw asked, raising his head slightly.
«None. I just came back from the islands,» Aurum said, gesturing eastward with a toss of his head. «I visited a few others to see if anyone else had found any other crafters, but it seems that no one else has.»
«I see,» Xhorhw murmured before his eyes widened. «Wait, can you speak with the crafter?»
«A little,» Aurum admitted. «Their language is…messy, but I can usually get my point across with what I know.»
«Fascinating,» Xhorhw said, his eyes sparkling with an opportunistic glint. «So, what you’re saying is that you need a messenger.»
«The crafter’s name is ‘Jane Callan’,» Aurum said. «I will be taking her to see others, but I promise I will be at the plateau come the day of the Solstice. You are free to spread the word, if you so wish.»
----------------------------------------
Callan watched in silence as the dragons continued to converse. She could recognize a word here or there, but most of it flew over her head at speeds too great for her to catch.
“Laishaka,” Aurum said after several minutes of conversation, “This dragon name is Xhorhw. He will tell others where we will be at solstice. He want proof for others. You have thing to give him?”
“I…think I do,” Callan said, retrieving her wallet from her jacket. In it was some money along with a few laminated photos – one of which being a group photo of the crew with the Horizon in the background. The geologist hesitated for a moment, then pulled out a bill. “Is this good?” she asked, handing Aurum a banknote which featured the likeness of the Mainland’s first prime minister.
«This should do nicely,» Xhorhw said, the green dragon nodding excitedly. «Oh, and I assume she’ll put in a good word for me if any other humans arrive?»
«Of course,» Aurum said, translating for Callan.
«Excellent. Well, I best be off!»
With that the newcomer flew off as quickly as he’d arrived, leaving the two of them alone on the island.
Aurum let out an relieved huff of air, and turned back to Callan. “I no tell him where you from, and I no tell him I look for human ship,” the dragon confessed. “If other humans here, they no want other dragons to know about them. Xhorhw will tell many others about us, and other humans will know where we will be.”
“Good thinking,” Callan said, patting his neck gratefully. After a moment she realized she was treating him like a horse, and stopped.
Thankfully Aurum didn’t seem to notice, or at least he didn’t mind the gesture. “We go now, see dragon I trust most.”
“Wait, we eat first,” Callan said, clutching the bottled message in her jacket pocket. “I need to make words for other humans to find.”
“I know place, other dragons with humans will find,” Aurum nodded before sitting himself down to watch her work.
Callan took some time to carefully leave a message on the backside of Wheeler’s letter, using a piece of charcoal as a writing implement. She felt bad about vandalizing a historical artifact, but the paper was far and above the best thing to write on.
The geologist knew this message might never be found, but there was also a chance that this would be her last chance to leave behind anything for her family. Writing with the makeshift tool was difficult, but putting her feelings down to paper was a far greater challenge.
Mission day 93(?)
Surprise, I'm alive!
I write this letter for the crew of the Horizon (you), who will not know of my survival. I suppose I should begin with how I survived. Not much room, so I’ll keep things short.
Edward and I were making emergency repairs on Day 11 when the storm suddenly intensified. We were washed into the ocean, where a whale sucked us into her glowing mouth. She carried us for a long time before spitting us out near a small island.
Edward died a few days afterwards. I survived alone for the next 73 days, until a goddamned dragon showed up – and then he started talking to me! But I’m sure that’s no surprise, seeing as you needed the help of a dragon to find this message in the first place.
Aurum and I were just discovered by another dragon, and he had to promise to bring me to some solstice event while the stranger left to spread the word of ‘my’ discovery. In the next week, Aurum and I will be reaching out to dragons who he believes will want to be our allies. We'll be gathering as many as we can before the summer solstice event in nine days.
Gods, I hope
Callan pursed her lips, then crossed that line out.
Gods, I hope
To whoever finds this, do me a favor and send a few messages for me.
Dad – thanks for everything that you taught me. I don't think I would've survived until now if you hadn't taught me all that you did.
Gordon – regardless of what happened, the choice to go on this expedition was mine and mine alone. What happened wasn't your fault.
Don't blame yourselves for any of this. I knew what I was signing myself up for. Sort of. Wasn't really expecting to meet a dragon of all things, but hey, at least I might be the first person to ever speak to one!
I love you both,
Jane
With the letter finished, Callan slipped the letter back into the bottle and climbed up to her spot at the base of Aurum’s neck.
“What words you make?” Aurum asked, glancing back at her curiously.
“...Hard to explain,” Callan sighed as she tied herself in. She was far from satisfied with what she had written, but given the circumstances it was the best that she could do.
----------------------------------------
«HELSHA!» Qnaro roared in the usual meeting place between him and Helsha; a small clearing surrounded by many wolcen trees, with a few of entwined ones visible.
Callan winced as his roar propagated through the skies, and the human clapped her hands over her ears as if in pain. “Hurts,” she grumbled.
“Why you no hear less?” Qnaro asked.
“...what?” Callan asked, sounding very confused. “How can I hear less?”
“This,” Qnaro said, flicking the spines along his jaw shut to loosen his webbed frill. After a second he allowed them to spring back up. “Your ears bad, can not move,” he noted, glancing at the human’s very oddly shaped ears.
Callan opened her mouth to respond, but instead she jumped as a dragon leapt out of the closest tree without warning.
«Qnaro, where-» Helsha said, then he froze mid-sentence to stare at Callan with his jaws agape. «Is that a crafter?» he slowly said, glancing between Aurum and the human.
«Of course. Her name is ‘Jane Callan’, but I’ve been calling her little-hunter,» Qnaro said, allowing himself to be a little smug. “Laishaka, this is Helsha,” he said, turning around to speak with Callan.
«You crazy bastard. You actually did it,» Helsha faintly murmured, sitting down on his haunches with a thud. «You found the farland, didn’t you?»
«Oh, well…no,» Qnaro admitted. «I just found her on one of the more distant islands to the east. She was with others of her own kind, but she got separated.»
«Ah. Wait, others of her own kind?» Helsha asked, eyes widening, «Have you fou-»
«We have not,» Qnaro said, tossing his head in the negative. «We were just searching for them, but we found absolutely nothing.» He went on to give an overview of their meeting, and how they were seeking out allies who they hoped would know about the other humans.
«I see…» Helsha muttered, his golden eyes rarely left Callan throughout their conversation. «Are the humans meat-eaters, plant-eaters, or something in between?»
«I’ve mostly been feeding her meat, but she does seem to like fruit as well.» Aurum shrugged.
«Well, bring her along, maybe she’ll like some variety for a change,» Helsha said, and turned to leave.
“You trust him, right?” Callan asked as Qnaro followed the herbalist home.
“Yes, why?”
“He look at me very much. Is uncomfortable.”
“Helsha is most good dragon I know,” Qnaro said reassuringly. “He do not hunt animals, and he do not eat animals.”
“He does not hunt?” Callan asked incredulously. “What does he eat?”
“Fruit. Mushrooms. Insects,” Qnaro shrugged.
“Oh. Insects are animals,” Callan corrected.
Qnaro blinked. “What is word for animal but not insect?”
“...humans do not have a word for that.”
“Strange,” Aurum chuffed.
«You really can talk with her,» Helsha said, having slowed down to listen to their conversation. «Fascinating. Does she know much about growing plants?»
«No, different humans specialize in different things, and little-hunter’s speciality is in studying rocks.»
«Studying rocks?» Helsha asked, humming thoughtfully. «Makes sense, what with their metal tools. Can you ask her if there any humans in her group that studied plants?»
“Some,” Callan said, though they were more agriculturalists than botanists. “Why are his scales a little white? Is he very old?”
“Helsha is 292 years old.”
“Wow,” Callan said. “And why does he have patterns?”
“Why does he have patterns? All dragons have patterns,” Qnaro said, stopping in his tracks to stare at Callan.
“...No,” Callan said, glancing between Qnaro and Helsha. “Helsha have…weak patterns. You have no patterns.”
“I…what?” Qnaro asked, completely bemused by Callan’s questions. Of course he had patterns, why couldn’t she see that?
«What’s going on?» Helsha asked, glancing between the two of them.
«She says she can’t see my patterns, but she can see yours a little,» Qnaro said, his spines flattening against his neck.
«Perhaps crafter eyes aren’t very good?» Helsha said, though Qnaro didn’t miss that self-satisfied look in his eyes. «Well, whatever the case, I expect there’ll be more demand for my hide-dye soon.»
«There would be far more demand if you could make it taste marginally better than sour carrion,» Qnaro grumbled.
“I think we see different colors,” Callan said, apparently not having followed their conversation.
“Is that…thing that can happen?” Qnaro said skeptically. Color was color, wasn’t it? How could you not see color? That was like saying someone couldn’t sense cold, or heat, or had no sense of touch…though senses did fade with age, so he supposed it wasn’t an unprecedented idea. «We’ll talk about it later,» he said, tossing his head in frustration. «Say, do you have anything to eat?»
----------------------------------------
“He has a pot?” Callan asked, surprised by the familiar implement. It looked much like an archaic cast-iron pot, save for being wok-shaped and of course, dragon-sized.
“Pot is made from human tools,” Aurum explained.
“Human tools?”
“Sometimes dragon find human tools on beach.”
“Oh!” Callan exclaimed, her eyes widening in realization. The geologist hadn’t realized the full implication of manmade objects washing ashore until now, but now she was starting to see how such salvage would significantly impact dragon culture. She hadn’t really seen how much technology they had yet, but apparently it was enough to smelt and reshape cast iron for their own purposes.
“Is rare,” Aurum replied to her inquiry. “Not many dragons have metal pot.”
“I see,” Callan said, watching as the old dragon stirred the pot with what seemed to be a wooden ladle. The soup seemed to be full of vegetables and mushrooms, as well as a few massive insects.
«You want?» Helsha asked, offering Callan what appeared to be a roasted pill-bug that was closer in size to a lobster.
“…okay,” Callan shrugged. She peeled apart the pill-bug and took a tentative bite. To her surprise it was quite tender, something like a cross between lobster and chicken. The insect itself was seasoned lightly with herbs, and tasted surprisingly good…even if it could have used more salt.
God, she missed table salt.
«Take,» Helsha said, offering Callan a rather large bowl of soup.
“Thanks,” Callan said, cautiously sipping the hot broth. It was…surprisingly flavorful, she noted, despite not being rich or salty at all. The flavors were alien, but she felt oddly emotional at having a meal that felt like real food. “This is good,” she said to Aurum, who was tipping his own bowl into his jaws.
«She likes it,» the golden dragon translated.
«I suppose that’s quite the compliment, coming from a crafter,» Helsha said, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in a draconic smile.
“Wait, Xhorhw and Helsha both seemed surprised to see me, but they didn’t act like I was something new, am I understanding things right?”
“Oh. I forgot,” Aurum said sheepishly. “Dragons find one human ship 192 years ago.”
Callan blinked.
“What.”
----------------------------------------
“So dragons found a ship almost two hundred years ago, and that’s why all dragons know about humans?” Callan said incredulously.
“...I not understand all your words,” Qnaro said. “But dragons find human things before ship. Name for humans is word for person who makes things.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?!”
“It not important,” Aurum said, scratching his jaw awkwardly. “This not change things.”
“True, but you can tell me many days ago,” Callan said, jabbing a finger at Aurum.
Aurum’s head drooped guiltily. “Sorry.”
«Now can you explain what you two are talking about?» Helsha asked for the third time.
«I forgot to tell her that we knew about her kind from the crafter artifacts.»
«Of course you did,» Helsha chuffed, snickering in amusement.
«There was a lot to talk about! And we’ve been busy!» Aurum said defensively.
«I assume you’re leaving tomorrow then, yes? Then please, tell me everything you can before you depart.»
Mission Day 94: The Twins and the Architects
«I still can’t believe you actually found a crafter,» Yantha sighed. «Should I pay up now, or later?»
«Later,» Qnaro said, grinning smugly. «But more importantly, I need your help. I don’t know what’s going to happen at the Solstice, so we need as many allies as possible in case something happens.»
Karoth rumbled deeply as he eyed Callan. «Not a bad idea. Think the clans might try something?»
«I wouldn’t put it past them,» Qnaro shrugged. «Better to err on the side of caution anyway.»
«Alright, we’ll help,» Yantha nodded. «but we want to be the first to visit the farland – by which we mean the largest land, of course.»
Qnaro nodded as he rose. «Of course, Jane Callan has already agreed to advocate for you when we find the other humans. She isn't much of an authority figure, but her words will carry much weight.»
«I suppose that's reasonable,» Karoth said, tilting his head in acceptance. «I assume you'll be off to gather more allies now?»
«Of course,» Qnaro nodded, rolling his wings. «We're going to visit the woodworkers next. See you at the plateau!»
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“Wow, it’s beautiful,” Callan said, amazed by the natural dwelling that the dragons had created.
Aurum had told her that Yintra and Eohmn were a partnered pair of dragons who were known for their woodworking prowess, but that hadn’t quite prepared Callan for the sight of trees bent and grown into the form of a dragon-sized house. The habitat almost seemed like one living organism, though the two dragons assured her it was in fact several trees entwined together.
In short, the still-living trees formed the floor and walls of the dwelling, while the furniture was crafted out of dead wood in a more conventional manner. However, a closer inspection revealed that these pieces of furniture were constructed of tightly fitted planks, eliminating the need for nails or other fasteners.
At its core the design was not dissimilar to Helsha’s own interwoven trees, but the herbalist’s creations emphasized grandeur and scale while the woodworking architects had a clear focus on aesthetics.
«Crafter objects and tools were a great inspiration to us,» Yintra said. «The designs we use are our own, but I do admit it would not have turned out as well as it did without your ‘help’.»
«You do have tools on this ‘ship’ of yours, correct?,» Eohmn asked. «We would gladly offer our help in exchange for some new crafter tools.»
«Don’t you want to visit their home island?» Aurum asked, blinking in surprise.
«Of course we are,» Yintra said, «but we cannot simply up and leave for who knows how long, and more importantly it would be a better idea to wait for a time, and let others hazard themselves first. No offense to you,» he added.
«None taken, and suit yourself,» Aurum shrugged. «Jane Callan has already agreed to supplying our allies with human tools, assuming it’s a reasonable amount,» he added.
«And what would you consider ‘reasonable’?» Yintra asked with a minor tilt of his head.
«However much you can carry in flight.»
The two partners looked at each other for a moment.
«Deal.»
Mission Day 95: Mother
«Explain to me again how exactly this happened,» Wakori sighed, the old dragon rubbing her eyes in exasperation.
Qnaro tried not to shift uncomfortably before his mother. «I noticed some birds had been displaced by something. I went to investigate, and found Jane Callan.»
«Of course you did,» Wakori grumbled. «And what do the crafters want? To take our land?»
«Their intention was to explore,» Qnaro said, his spines bristling in irritation. «Of course they didn’t know we were here, and I know it would be foolish to blindly trust them, but surely you agree that it would be even more foolish to assume them to be enemies; if that doesn’t guarantee their hostility then I don’t know what would.»
«So you’ve said,» Wakori grumbled. «Well, what do you want from me?»
«Your help,» Qnaro said, forcing the words through his teeth. «I know you don’t like me, but I don’t know what’s going to happen at the solstice. We need as many allies as possible, and I’m not stupid enough to spurn your help.»
Wakori did not immediately respond, her expression unreadable.
«Fine,» she nodded. «I’ll be there.»
“She doesn’t seem very nice,” Callan said, a few minutes after they left the ornery dragon.
“She do not like me,” Aurum grumbled. “She like fighting. I not good at fighting.”
“Oh,” Callan said, uncertain of how to respond. “Then why did you ask for her help?”
Aurum sighed, the sound easily audible over the wind blowing past Callan’s ears. “She is strong,” he said simply.
“Well…thank you for asking for her help,” Callan said, patting the dragon’s neck. “And…I forgot to tell you, but thank you for helping me not die on that island.”
“Is okay, we have same wants,” Aurum said, rumbling reassuringly. “We see two more dragons, then we go to Plateau, okay?”
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«Oh!» Vhaka exclaimed. «Is that-!»
«A crafter, yes,» Aurum groaned. «Sorry, that was rude. We’ve been gathering allies, and I’ve had to explain everything…six times now.»
Vhaka blinked, looking rather surprised. «Are you…complaining about having a living crafter with you?»
«Well…when you put it like that, it does seem a bit silly,» Qnaro admitted sheepishly, and went on to summarize everything as he’d done so many times before.
«How exciting,» Vhaka said, looking at Callan with his bright blue eyes. «You want more allies, yes? Then I think I’ll pay Hironh-ǂ a visit; he’ll surely be a valuable to our cause.»
«Doesn’t he have a broken wing?» Qnaro asked dubiously.
«Well…yes,» Vhaka admitted, «but he’s still a decent fighter, and I heard he’s gotten better over the years. Most importantly he’s the honorable sort; I’d say I trust him most out of anyone.»
«So long as you trust him,» Qnaro shrugged. There were only five days until the solstice, so a leak at this moment in time wouldn’t be as big of a deal.
«It’s rather late, would you like to stay the night?» Vhaka asked, glancing between Qnaro and Callan.
«That would be appreciated,» Qnaro said, bobbing his head in thanks.
«Tank yuu,» Callan offered.
Vhaka cocked his head. «...did she just say ‘thank you’?» he asked uncertainly.
«She’s been practicing,» Qnaro snorted in amusement. «You should have heard her first attempts.»
«Yuu unduhstahn?» Callan asked.
«A little,» Vhaka said, and patted Callan on the head with the palm of his wing. «Such strange looking creatures, though they are somewhat cuter than I expected. Do they eat meat?»
«Cute?» Qnaro echoed, his pupils narrowing incredulously. «Er…yes, though she prefers to eat a variety of foods.»
«Good, I have some fruits,» Vhaka said, nodding to himself. «Come, come! You need a little rest, what with how many days you’ve been flying.»
“He seems nice,” Callan commented.
“He is very easy to talk to,” Aurum murmured back. “Good at cooking too.”
Mission Day 96: Iakahn
Qnaro flared out his wings as he approached the small island, landing gently near a glowering dragon.
«Where have you been? I’ve been waiting a day and a half for you!» Iakahn hissed. «Didn’t we agree to tell the other about any interesting things we found?»
«We did, but-»
«So why did I hear news about you finding a living crafter from some random dragon instead of you?» Iakahn hissed, glowering intensely at him.
«Well, you don’t stay in one place for very long, and I couldn’t be sure where you would be,» Qnaro said defensively. «I needed you to hear the news from someone else first; that way you would know where to wait for me.»
«That’s-» Iakahn paused. «Actually…a good point,» she said, ducking her head with an abashed air. «Sorry, I was so excited by the news that I wasn’t thinking clearly.»
«No, I understand,» Qnaro said, bobbing his head. «I would have told you as soon as possible if I could, but we needed to gather allies, and our meeting place was the furthest away.» An awkward silence passed. «Anyway, let me tell you about Callan!»
«Yes!» Iakahn said, her pupils dilating in excitement. «Tell me everything!»
«Hehlo,» Callan said, waving her hand in tentative greeting at the now amicable dragon.
«She talks!» Iakahn exclaimed. «I mean, I was certain crafters would have some sort of speech, but-»
«Yes, amazing, isn’t it?» Qnaro grinned, sitting down on his haunches. «Come, sit on down, it's going to take some time for me to tell you everything I know.»
Mission day 97: Return
“You said she is sixteen years old, right?” Callan asked, glancing between Aurum and Iakahn.
“Yes, why?” Aurum asked.
“I like her necklace – that's the seashell thing,” Callan said to Aurum. “It looks very good. Did she make it herself?”
“She did,” Aurum nodded, “I will tell her what you said.”
«Don't patronize me,» Iakahn huffed, her pupils narrowing in disdain. «It's just a few seashells. Why would a crafter care about that?»
“I'm not fake-saying-good-things,” Callan said, raising her hands defensively while Aurum awkwardly translated for her. “They look very good. How did you get them to shine like that?”
«Oh,» Iakahn said, her spines falling abashedly. «Well, first I polish them with sand for a long time, then I used crocodile stomach fluids to etch away the finer stuff. After that I just polish it some more to get it to shine.»
“That must take a very long time.”
«Yes, it did,» Iakahn nodded slowly. «I'm sorry if I was rude, but I still don't understand why you'd find something like this impressive. Can't crafters – I mean, can't humans make far more impressive things?» she asked, eyeing Callan's wedding band.
“It's complicated,” Callan chuckled. “Most humans do one thing, so many humans work together to make one thing.” She paused, seeing Aurum’s pupils shrink in confusion. “Example: one human breaks rock, another human takes metal out of the rock, and then another human uses the metal to make something like my ring.”
«Oh. I see,» Iakahn said, sounding a little disappointed. «I assumed you were all capable of making things, but I suppose that makes more for individuals to specialize in certain skills.»
«We should get going,» Aurum said, standing up to leave. «The solstice is in three days, and it'll take two to get back to the Plateau.»
«And I'm coming with you, right?» Iakahn asked, her eyes wide with anticipation.
«Of course,» Qnaro nodded, then hesitated. «Actually, Callan and I need to visit Helsha first. We can fly together for a day or so, but could you head to the plateau first? I need you to let me know if anything odd happens.»
«Good idea,» Iakahn nodded. «I'll let you know if anyone speaks of the other humans.»
Plan made, the two dragons ascended into the sky, flying northwards to the Plateau.
“Think Helsha will know anything?” Callan asked as Aurum settled into a glide.
“Helsha is strong, and near the Plateau,” Aurum said, half-turning his head to reply. “If there are other human-allied dragons, they will definitely want him as an ally.”
“Makes sense,” Callan managed, her heart palpating with an unpleasant combination of anticipation, hope, and dread. In a mere two days she would finally know what she had to do.
The geologist took in a deep breath and tightened her grip on the vines, looking towards the northern skyline.
“Let’s go find out what’s going on.”